Mikey
by kellz1pt5
Summary: Set after Pyramid: One drunken night drowning in the death of Gibbs' mentor had changed things for the better. Nearly six years later, we meet Mikey - Abby and Gibbs' five year old son - as he grows up. Also some Tiva
1. Chapter 1

_Chapter One_

_22:15_

The lab was very quiet with only the humming of the machines the only evidence that the forensic specialist was there. She put the last report on her desk, glancing down at the small child sleeping on the futon. His dark brown hair was tousle, along with his rumpled striped orange and blue shirt with his dark jeans hiked up his thin legs. He had his father's skin color, very evident Irish roots with red-tannish skin. She smiled as she moved from behind her desk to go closer to him. As she slid her hand up his creamy arm, she wasn't surprised to meet blue eyes.

"Hey Mikey, you ready to go?" She asked, casting a small smile.

"Is Daddy gonna be home?" The soft, innocent voice asked, unsure. He sat up, stretching and yawning.

She frowned, raising a hand to brush his hair back and caress his cheek. "Awww, no baby, he's a crime scene, but we can call him if you'd like." She really felt her heart drop just a little. Her son really looked up to his father, just like his uncles and aunt.

He brightened up, producing a wide smile. "Yeah?"

She smiled, rising from kneeling. "Yeah, Mikey." She shed her lab coat, draping it across the back of the desk chair and pulled her Blackberry out of her satchel. Putting it on speed dial, she walked back over to Mikey, handing it to the excited child.

_NCIS_

Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs was observing the scene before him. His three subordinates were busy cataloging, tagging and bagging, and interviewing witnesses. He had just talking with the local sheriff in regards of the case. Ducky and Palmer were busy doing an initial exam, prepping the decease for transport.

He felt a vibration in his right coat pocket and the ringtone that followed shortly after caused him to immediately pull it out of his pocket. The name _Abby_ flashed on the screen. A smile instantly came to his face and his body filled with a light warmth. He answered it.

"Gibbs." He said as soon as he lifted the phone to his ear.

"Daddy!" The excited voice screamed into his ear, immediately causing him to pull the phone away. His little boy had definitely inherited his mother's excitement.

"Hey Bub, what are you doing up at this hour?" He asked, turning away from the others, trying to create a private area.

"Mommy just got done in the lab. We're getting ready to leave."

"Oh." He sounded disappointed that Abby would still be at work and not tucking Mikey in his bed at their house. "How was your day?"

Knowing that when his daddy was at crime scene that he was supposed to be short, Mikey was quick. "Daddy, when are ya gonna be home?"

Gibbs felt a tightness in his chest every time his son asked that question. At times, this job really sucked. He really wanted to be there whenever his son needed him, but he knew that didn't always happen. At least, Abby could be there. She was lucky, staying at the Navy Yard and being there whenever Mikey got done with school.

"Daddy?"

Gibbs shook his head, coming back to the present. "Uh...soon son. I promise."

This reply seemed to suffice. "Okay Daddy, see you when you get home. I love you."

Gibbs smiled. "I love you too Mikey. Tell me Mommy I love her too."

"I will!" Mikey replied, hanging up.

Gibbs smirked. Mikey had definitely inherited his tendency to hang up without a goodbye – one trait he would have to teach his son. His mother would surly scold him for doing such thing.

"Was that Mikey, Boss?" Tony asked out of nowhere as he came to stand next to him.

"It was." Gibbs answered, his smile fading only to be replaced with his normal cold stare. "Are we done here?"

"Definitely, Boss." Tony responded, putting the camera back in its bag. "We'll get the stuff back to Abby's lab so that she can–"

"She's left to go home with Mikey." Gibbs quickly told him.

Tony just looked at him. "Okay, then we'll just drop it off so she can get to it first thing in the morning."

"That's more like it, DiNozzo." Gibbs said as he started heading to the Charger. He saw McGee and Ziva over at the van, putting what evidence was collected in. Ducky and Palmer were heading back to NCIS to get everything there for in the morning. "Come on, I'll get us back to NCIS so you all can go home."

Tony, for once, didn't say anything as they headed to the car.

_NCIS  
><em>

_00:24_

Gibbs opened the door as quietly as he could, looking the door behind him. He set his jacket, cap and keys in their appropriate places as he shed his shoes at the front door. Then, he walked upstairs – first, checking on his son and then second, going to bed.

Things had changed after Mikey came along. He had become even more protective of Abby when she told him that she was pregnant. One drunken night drowning in the death of his mentor had changed things for the better. Although he still held pain over the deaths of Shannon and Kelly, Abby had smoothed over that pain, opening up the happier side of him. There were many words to describe when he was told that he was going to be a father again. His heart went separate ways – thrilled that he'd have a second chance and hurt that he never got the chance to watch his daughter grow up or meet her brother.

Nearly six years ago, Mike had passed away and then the following events of the Port-to-Port killer that went down had caused strain on his team. Ziva's proposal and Tony's undercover assignment had caused his world to be unstable. McGee seemed to be the only that hadn't had any change. He had worried that his team would go their separate ways, but luckily Ziva had called off the proposal and ended her relationship with Agent Ray Cruz. Tony had accomplished his assignment, bringing his then-girlfriend Special Agent EJ Barrett under the scope. By the end of that year, the team had grown even closer.

"Jethro?" His beloved said in a sleepy tone. She moved, opening her eyes as he moved around the room, getting ready for bed. Her pitch-black hair splay around her face, tousled.

"Yeah, Abs?" He said in between brushing his teeth. He had changed his clothes, now only wearing a T-shirt and boxers. "I'll be right there." Within minutes, he finished with his teeth and slipped under the covers, immediately wrapping his arms around her. "Told ya, didn't I?"

She didn't answered, only snuggled closer to him. He smiled, drifting to sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**I apologize for not putting a disclaimer in the first part. My mind was elsewhere. So here it is:**

**Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I don't own NCIS or the characters (aside from Mikey and a few other characters, but those characters will come into play soon). If I did, we all know Gibbs and Abby would be in a relationship (if you are like me and like that pairing :D). Tiva would also exist.**

**So...moving on! Here is the story and please R&R. **

_Chapter Two_

_06:45_

"Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!" Mikey screamed, laying on his father's stomach. This was what Gibbs woke up to.

"Hey Bubba!" Gibbs replied with the same excitement that his son presented. He rubbed his eyes and ran a hand through his hair. He looked to the right, not finding Abby. "Where's Mommy?"

"Downstairs, making breakfast." Mikey answered as if it were an everyday thing. Normally, he would be the one cooking.

"Well," Gibbs started, revealing a mischievous grin. He unexpectedly started ticking his son.

"Daddy!" Mikey exclaimed in between laughing. He continued to laugh until Gibbs stopped.

Gibbs, now fully awake, sat up. "I guess we need to get down there and help, don't cha think?"

"Uh-huh." Mikey said, nodding. He slid off his father's chest, landing on his mother's side of the bed. He then jumped off the bed. "Come on, Daddy!"

Gibbs managed to pull on a pair of sweat pants before his son got so impatient that he grabbed for his hand. Being pulled out of the bedroom, Gibbs paused, swooping Mikey in his arms, which caused the young child to laugh.

Downstairs, Abby had to laugh and smile. Her boys were definitely entertaining when in the same room. She clearly saw the admiration that their son possessed. At one time, she had considered not telling Gibbs, letting him think it was another man's child; but she couldn't deny how much Mikey looked like his father. Now every time she thought back on what she was glad she hadn't done, Abby was glad she had done the right thing and told him.

_Smack, smack_! The sound of a hand repeatedly hitting a something plastic caused her to turn her head in the direction of the high chair. Their daughter, Stella, was two years old and full of energy – just like her brother. They definitely kept them busy. Unfortunately, Stella was found to be deaf. However, that certainly didn't hold her back. She was constantly getting into things and causing ruckus.

"Stella..." Abby sighed, grabbing a hand towel from the counter. She walked over to the high chair and wiped the little girl's hands and mouth. Stella had gotten her pancake all over her, prompting Abby to change her again before they headed off to work.

"Daddy! Put me down!" Mikey requested loudly as Gibbs set him in his chair.

"Hey Abs," Gibbs greeted as he kissed her briefly on his way to the counter where their breakfast was laid out. "This looks great, Babe."

"Thanks, honey." Abby responded, distractedly. If asked six years ago whether Gibbs would have been calling her pet names other than Abs, she would have told the person they were crazy. Now, she wouldn't have her life any other way.

Gibbs made two plates for both Mikey and himself, pouring syrup on the pancake and cutting it up. He left his with only syrup. Leaving Mikey's fork on his, he placed the plate in front of the boy, taking his own seat as he set his own plate in front of him.

"Mommy, can I have some milk?" Mikey asked in between bites.

"Mikey." Gibbs said firmly, giving him a mini "Gibbs stare" look. Mikey looked at him, looking at him.

"I got it, Gibbs." Abby said, bringing a small glass of milk to Mikey and a cup of coffee to Gibbs. It was only then when she finally sat down and ate herself.

_10:23_

Team Gibbs spent the better of the day working on the case. Mikey was in pre-school and Stella was down in autopsy in her playpen with Ducky and Palmer. Although it was against regulations, Gibbs didn't care. He wanted to make sure his daughter was safe and he absolutely trusted Ducky.

Mikey's school was on the Navy Yard, so he and Abby weren't too far away in case of an emergency. They assumed he would be safe.

Little did they know, once again things would change...this time not for good.


	3. Chapter 3

**Here's another chapter...you know what else goes up here. When I started writing this chapter, I didn't really know what would happen next...but obviously now I do.**

**Sorta. :)**

**Thanks to those who have already commented. You guys have given me hope that my story is worth writing. Just bare with me and hold on for the ride. You know when you started writing a story that ends up writing itself...this is one of those times.**

**Well, onto the story. Remember thou that the review button brings more chapters :D**

_Chapter Three_

Gibbs was in the director's office when the unthinkable happened.

_ Boom!_

Vance jumped and held onto his desk as the building shook violently; Gibbs jumped but didn't reach out for anything. The men held mirrored curious and concerned expressions on their faces. It only took long enough for the building to stop shaking for the two men to dive into action. Vance immediately picked up the phone as Gibbs started heading to the door, his first thoughts shot to his family.

"Hello?" Vance said, pulling the phone away from his ear and pushing the on/off button. "What the hell?" He started, looking up to find Gibbs eyeing him.

"What?"

"The phones are down." Vance informed, putting the receiver back on it handle angrily.

"Abby," Gibbs whispered, turning and taking off out the room. He barely registered the insistent calls from Vance to stay there. A Marine never grew out of his ways. Gibbs wasn't afraid for him, but for his family. Once he checked on Abby, he was sure they would ignore everyone else and check on their children. "Stella." He whispered, rushing to the stairwell and trying his hardest to get to his girls.

_NCIS_

Coughing and the noises of things being moved were only a few sounds coming from the aftershock. Dust scattered and came to a resting point everywhere. Someone kicked a piece of plaster out of their way. More coughing was heard as a person fought their way out of the mess that held them hostage.

A very dusty and dirty Abby emerged from under her desk, hacking and wheezing from the particles surrounding her. Her clothes torn and ruppled, she shook herself of the hazardous materials embedded in her clothing. With a halfway decent cleaned hand, she wiped her face, finally able to see the damage done to her lab. The equipment was a total lost. She looked at the ceiling, wondering how in the world the building still halfway stood.

However, she was happy that she wasn't dead. Now, her thoughts turned to her family – immediate and extended – which caused her to start tearing up.

"_Abby!"_ She heard a voice, unrecognizable at first, yell. As the voice continued to yell, it finally became clear that it was Gibbs.

"Gibbs!" She started for the door. Although bits and pieces of rumble were in her way, she met Gibbs at the door. "Honey." She said with relief. They stared at each other, taking in the other's appearance and finally kissed firmly, clenching each other like they were the other's lifeline.

Gibbs looked past her at the disastrous lab. Then, he looked back at his banged up wife. "Come on, babe, we gotta get to Autopsy."

She only nodded, taking his hand as they traveled to the stairwell.

_NCIS_

Ducky lay underneath rubble, knocked out. Instruments scattered across the unpolished and pristine flooring, the dead body of the Marine they had been investigating was luckily already placed back in his refrigeration chamber.

"Ugh..." Palmer groaned, slowly rising out from under a pile of broken plaster. Seeing that the good ol' doctor was non-responsive, Palmer went to his aid. "Doctor Mallard? Doctor?" He shook his arm, trying to bring him back. Ducky only rocked back and forth lazily by the movements.

_"Ducky!"_ Palmer heard Gibbs call.

_"Palmer!"_ Abby screamed.

He looked up at the doorway as the two people stopped, taking a observatory look around the now dangerous autopsy area.

"Gibbs! Abby! I can't wake him." Palmer said. They made their way over.

"Where's Stella?" Gibbs asked as Abby bent down to Ducky, checking him over.

"I-I haven't looked." He said nervously as he looked wildly around the room. He stopped the little girl who was underneath a table, crying. "Over there!" He pointed. Gibbs looked in the direction where Palmer was pointing.

Gibbs took off, nearly bulldozing anything in his way to his daughter. Once he got within arms' length of her, he held out his arms and immediately Stella attached herself to her father. He swiveled on his feet, looking back at his wife who was broadcasting a sadden vibe as she shook her head in disbelief. Palmer looked like a little lost boy as his face showed uncertainty.

_What the hell just happened?_

**Did you see that coming? I'm sorry that there wasn't any Mikey scenes but I was focused more on the NCIS building and its occupants.**

**Til next time!**

**kell**


	4. Chapter 4

_Chapter Four_

Bethesda Memorial Hospital

"_I'm sorry Agent Gibbs, we have been unable to locate Michael. We are still trying to locate all the children, so there's still a chance he may be just hidden really well_."

This information repeated in his head. He was sitting on the hallway floor near the ER. His cell phone was still in his hand while he held his head in his hands. For once tears actually ran freely down his cheeks. He sat with his legs arched up, supporting his elbows. Abby was in with Stella who had mainly cuts and bruises; Ducky was hooked up to all sorts of machines with nurses monitoring his vitals; Palmer and McGee – both with minor injuries – were getting looked at while Tony was unconscious, hooked up to a breathing machine and heart monitor. An IV was placed in his left hand. He had protected Ziva from some of the ceiling rafters that had fallen. Ziva was unconscious in the same state as Tony, although he had taken most of the hit. Vance was like him, sustaining minor cuts and bruises.

His team was wounded and it was killing him that he could nothing but wait for them all to heal, if those in critical condition made it. His son still missing left him with a serious overload of stress and hurt. It felt like God was testing him, even though he didn't really have much to do with Him – though he was now considering it. Their semi-perfect world was tilted on its axis, threatening to completely spiral out of control.

Gibbs felt like he was reliving the same nightmare of when Kelly was taken from him. He had vowed to Mikey the day the boy was born that he would do everything in his power to protect him, but it seemed he failed. However, this made him very determined to find his son.

He was so engrossed in his thought-process that he didn't notice his wife and daughter standing near him until his daughter touched his elbow. Gibbs instantly looked up and a weak smile curved his lips. Abby bent down to his level, stroking his shoulder as his hands went to hold their daughter tightly.

"Honey, what did Mrs. Pierce say about the daycare?" Abby asked, caressing his cheek.

"Mikey still hasn't shown up. They're still looking for all the kids." Gibbs answered, kissing Stella's hair. "God, Abs, you know that if anything were to happen to Mikey that I'd–"

"Don't think like that, honey. They _will_ find him." Abby assured him, though she wasn't completely convince that would be the case. She only hoped to see their son again.

NCIS

Mikey came to slowly, opening his eyes to find himself underneath fallen debris and two criss-crossed rafters. Terrified, the only thought that came to mind was that he wanted his parents. He knew that his daddy and extended family would save him. Tears came forth, but he refused to let them fall. He had to be strong, for himself and his family. The Gibbs men were never weak; it simply wasn't allowed.

Mikey shook the tears away, rubbing his dust-cladded arm to clear the rest away. He had limited space to maneuver his body out of his debris-clad cell. Slowly but surely, he made his way out from the under the contraption. He hissed when his shirt snagged on a sharp edge of broken rafter, catching his exposed arm on an attached sharp edge. Once again, his tears threatened to fall, but he moved forward.

His surroundings were devastating. The entire room was nearly a jungle of broken pieces of the ceiling and support beams. He was surprised that the place hadn't completely collapsed. There was dirt and dust everywhere with other children lying unconscious or dead – he wasn't completely sure of that. He heard yelling as he made his way to the entrance. Then, he smiled as he saw various firemen and Navy personnel approaching him. It was only then that he allowed tears to fall, ignoring the Gibbs standard.

"What is your name, son?" A fireman asked, after carrying him out of the building and sitting him down on the back of an ambulance as they checked him over.

"Michael Gibbs." The boy simply answered, hissing when the paramedic pressed a little too hard on the wound above his left eyebrow, bearing a flesh wound.

The firemen then proceeded to inform someone that they found him. Mikey tried sitting as still as possible while they poked and prodded, coming up with minor wounds and bruised ribs. His ripped shirt now off as they tried to wrap his ribs securely, the red and blue mixed marks was the only visible evidence of the aftermath of the unstable building. He was definitely one of the lucky ones as he watched various officers carry out small children from his daycare – some he assumed were dead or barely hanging on.

The scene before shouldn't have been seen in the eyes of a five-year-old. Mikey had done some quick growing up that day and had burned some of the images in his mind.

Gibbs, Abby, and Stella were reunited with Mikey as he was rushed into the ER of the same hospital that the team was at. The fireman dispatcher had called to let Gibbs know that Mikey was alive and in transit to the hospital. Relieved and thrilled that his only son was alive, he quickly informed what the rest of his alert team members were left.

"Mikey!" Gibbs hollered as he rushed to his son's side.

"Dad-dy." He whispered, his usual excitement tucked away. Mikey lay very still as the doctors checked his wounds – to mainly confirmed the paramedic's findings – only using his head as movement. Somewhere along the ride, his ribs had pressed into his lung, causing his breathing to be labored. "Where's...Mommy...and Stella?"

"They're just outside." Gibbs answered, not happy with his son's diagnosis. He rubbed his hand over his son's unruly hair on his forehead, grazing the wound by accident. Mikey grimaced, tightening his jaw and jerking away. "I'm sorry, Mikey. Didn't mean it."

"I...know...Daddy." Mikey said softly. He turned away, watching as the nurse hooked up his IV, hanging a bag on the stand in the process. When the nurse moved on to reveal the bruises, Gibbs winced as Mikey tried not to cry out in pain.

"I'm sorry, Michael." She apologized, looking up at Gibbs after giving Mikey a quick apologetic look. "We're going to have him X-Rayed to see how damaged his ribs really are. It'll be just a few minutes."

Gibbs only nodded, effectively giving the nurse the chance to check on other patients. As soon as the nurse walked out, Abby and Stella came in. Gibbs relayed what was going to happen to Abby.

"Hey Mommy...Stella." Mikey greeted weakly. He draped an arm across his stomach. The emotional and physical events of the day were finally making him exhausted, relief that he was reunited with his family being his only tether to not fall asleep. Now that he was with them, he could get some shut eye.

"Rest, Mikey." Abby said, transferring Stella to Gibbs as she came closer and ran a hand around his face in a soothing way. "We'll be here when you wake up."

He nodded as he drifted to sleep, the feeling of his mother's soft caress alluring him to sleep.

NCIS_  
><em>

_He was working busily as he heard his other two coworkers bickering over who has the best pizza. Shaking his head, he really thought they could be childish at times, although he knew Tony was often childish. He never expected it from Ziva._

_ Boom! The resonating sound of the blast startled everyone in the bullpen. McGee instantly jumped, cutting all typing off. The other two came to the front of his desk. After all the screaming, it grew silent as the building seemed to pause in its destruction. Boom! Another blast went off, causing parts of the building to break down._

_ "McGee!" Tony screamed, looking at him, pulling McGee and Ziva's eyes to him. "Get under the desk!" Tony ordered, pointing down over the desk. McGee froze, fear taking him hostage. "Now, McGee!"_

_ "Oh! Okay!" McGee responded, instantly getting under the desk. He could hear screaming and chaos erupt on the floor. Everyone ran for cover as rafters started falling and various ceiling material crumbled and broke under the pressure. His eyes looking wildly at the chaos, he watched from the small opening of the desk as a rafter came swinging toward Tony and Ziva. At the last few seconds, Tony saw it and jumped in front of Ziva, both falling back in the force of the falling rafter. _

_ "No!" McGee scrambled up to see where his comrades were. Tony lay on Ziva, knocked out from the force as was she. He assumed they were dead. He got back under the desk, wanting to go to them but knew where Tony wanted him. Tears started falling as his body was shaking from fright and crying. McGee worried about the others as well, praying that they would be okay._

McGee jerked awake, jumping in his seat. He looked around the room. Tony still unconscious, the only sounds in the room coming from the machines keeping Tony alive.

"Tim?" A voice brought him out of his daze. He looked behind him as Gibbs placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Boss..." McGee trailed. "Why?"

"I don't know, but we're going to find out." His gruff, harden voice told him as he dropped his hand. Gibbs jerked his head into the hallway, gesturing that McGee should follow him. Taking one last look at his friend-turned-brother, he reluctantly got up and left.

Gibbs stepped back, looking at Tony, a pang of unknown guilt stabbing his gut. He walked beside McGee as they went to Ziva's room, where Vance was vicariously speaking with her father. Both men winced at the similar state Ziva was in. Vance looked up at Gibbs and made his way out of the room.

Gibbs looked him over once again. He saw the various bandages on his face and hands. McGee had hidden wounds underneath the hospital shirt the staff had given him. "How are you holding up?"

McGee scoffed. "Scared, confused, worried...I'll be okay, Boss." McGee answered. "H-How's Abby and the kids?" McGee tried to advert the conversation off his feelings. Gibbs could see that McGee was trying to be strong for everyone. The older man put a reassuring hand on the younger man's shoulder.

"Stella just has bruises, but Mikey has a few broken ribs and bruises." He informed, looking out the door. McGee followed his eyes to find Abby and Stella standing across the hall. Stella squirmed and Abby put her down. The little girl rushed over to her uncle Tim. Thrilled, McGee lifted her into his arms, giving her a mini-Abby hug.

Gibbs looked back at Ziva, wondering where they were to go from here.


	5. Chapter 5

**I apologize for not being very consistent with updating but I've been working on marketing for my first published book. (anyone wanting more details, pm me) I hope all forgive me ;)**

**Disclaimer: I own them! Just admit it, DPB! J/K. Unfortunately, like many of us, I don't actually own them, other than Mikey, Stella and those you know aren't on the show.**

**the_real_kelligan happily presents...**

_Chapter Five_

"I want to know why the hell my building was bombed!" Director Leon Vance sternly stated, firmly pressing his index finger on the oval conference room table. The Navy Yard directors of the other buildings all were sitting while Vance remained standing. He was looking up at the monitor, speaking with the SecNav via video phone.

"Leon, we all want to know why. I'm going to get my best people on this." Secretary of the Navy Clayton Jarvis assured his comrade. Jarvis was in his office with his two assistants, all sitting at the table in the office. Leon looked passed the monitor while Jarvis continued speaking, seeing Gibbs in the small window. His lead investigator stepped out of sight, causing Vance to draw his eyes back to the screen.

"...The FBI is assisting in the investigation. I was informed that Special Agent Tobias Fornell is heading the investi–" Jarvis spoke.

"I'm sorry, Sir, but something just came up. I'll be right back." Vance moved to leave, but Jarvis stopped him.

"Leon, we still haven't established a direction to the investigation." Jarvis pointed out. Another director rose. "I'll inform Leon on what we decide."

Leon gave the man an appreciated look.

Jarvis relented, sighing yet clearly not happy. "Very well. Carry on, Leon." He dismissed him with a wave of his hand.

Leon took off, opening the door as quietly as possible, slipping out and shutting it after him. "What do you know, Gibbs?"

"My team's wounded and my son's hurt. Whoever this person or group is wants Navy Yard to do something for them or see what, perhaps, the military did to them. I'd say my team would be on it, but..." Gibbs trailed, not needing to finish the sentence. Vance stuck a toothpick in his mouth and started chewing on it, thinking about the options. "Leon, perhaps you should see if we can have a loan team from one of the other NCIS stations to investigate. Fresh eyes that have no beef with this area may be just what SecNav and everyone needs." Gibbs suggested.

Vance stopped chewing, considering Gibbs' suggestion. It was not very often when Gibbs would suggest something that he readily agreed to. The man had a point. No one on the Navy Yard could help at the moment. Most employees were hospitalized or dead. They needed fresh eyes.

Seeing that the director was in agreement, Gibbs took off, heading back to his family. Vance pulled out his cell phone, intent on collecting on a few favors.

**A/N: Sorry this was so short but it looked like a good cliff hanger. Patience, my little readers, I'm stirring this up a little. Did you really think my only twist would be already done?**


	6. Chapter 6

**I hope you like this next chapter. This is certainly one of my favorites. ;)**

**Enjoy all!**

_Chapter Six_

_Washington, DC_

_15:00_

Director Patrick Hanley walked out onto the mezzanine, running his hand along the metal fence. He stopped mid-way and looked at his "A" team.

Special Agent Lead Investigator Walter Morris was in his fifties, a former SEAL, and family man. When a freak accident caused him to be honorable discharged, he was referred to NCIS. Twenty years later, he had his own team. His second in command – Brandon Jackson – was in his thirties, a Harvard criminal justice graduate, father of two girls had been with NCIS since after graduation, referred by his best friend who was a Marine. Junior Agent Tara Phillips was a former CIA operative in her forties, sadly widowed when her husband was killed in action overseas, joining law enforcement after his death. Probationary Agent Max Crowe was in his early thirties and a badass, constantly causing ruckus but very good with a gun and preceptive, a former sniper for the Rangers, and not putting up with shit. Most called Max a rebellious bastard, but the man didn't care what others said or thought. He was recently married and expecting a baby.

"Walter." Hanley said professionally, sharing a mutual look. Walter stopped laughing with his team, excused himself, and joined Hanley on the mezzanine.

"Patrick, got a case?" He asked, following his boss' eyes which had returned to resting on the team.

Hanley averted his eyes back to Walter. "I need to speak with your team in my office asap." At Walter's nod, Hanley went back to his office.

Walter signaled for his team to come with him. When they arrived in the office, Hanley gestured to the oval table in his room. He had placed a thick stack of folders in the center of the table. The team sat around the table.

Hanley remained standing. "I've been asked to send my best team to home base. Several bombs went off at the Navy Yard." He stopped, waiting for the various reactions to the news and passed out the folders to the different buildings located in the Navy Yard. After a moment, he continued. "SecNav and Director Vance conferenced me just a few minutes ago. They warned me that it was pretty bad and to be careful as you investigate; the FBI, local LEO's, and medical personnel are still sifting through the damage. There has yet to be a reason behind the attack. SecNav wants this thoroughly investigated. You leave within two hours. Better get going." He finished. The team jumped up and left, leaving Walter behind. Hanley went back to his chair and sat. "Go to Bethesda and meet up with Vance and Jethro Gibbs. They will get you started."

"Certainly, sir." Walter spoke in most professional voice. Dismissed, Walter went to pack and inform his family of the attack. As he went home, he couldn't fathom who would have done this. Whoever it may be, Walter knew he wanted to get to the bottom of it. Although he would want the satisfaction of killing the bastards, he would leave that up to Vance and SecNav.

__NCIS

_02:29_

A dark Taurus came to sudden stop at an old camp. An old fence surrounded the ten-acre lot. Several shacks surrounded a single building – called the Key Ring – which housed the laundry facility, main office, conference rooms, dance hall – just about everything a small village would need. The camp had long ago been abandoned, only to be taken up with a terrorist community.

A sandy-haired, tanned man got out, slamming the door hard, announcing his presence to the Headmaster – who lived in the annex attached to the Key Ring – and the guards. Three lights from three different buildings turned on. Two guards stepped out on their porches, gun in hand, watching the action nearby. They were ready to strike at a moment's notice. The unknown man knocked three times on the Headmaster's door – the community's signal to invite – and waited the few moments while the Headmaster's personal guard came to the door. As soon as the man opened the door, the unknown man told the guard his reason and was invited in to discussed whatever business he was there for. After the door shut, the other two guards resigned to bed, shutting the door after them and shutting the light off.

"Master, I apologize for the late hour, but my men have confirmed the attack on the Navy Yard as a success. I have called them back to base. They should arrive in a few hours." The man reported, standing at ease near his master's bed. The Headmaster's wife continued sleeping, undisturbed by the bright light.

The Headmaster was not happy to be woke from his sleep. "This could not have waiting until morning?" He grunted, the anger seeping through his voice.

The man was taken aback. "I-I thought you would want to know right away. You have been so insistent on our success. I was under the impression that you would want to be notified as soon as possible." The man responded, second guessing his intentions.

"I am very happy, but it is business that could have waited until morning." The Headmaster settled back into bed. "However, thank you for letting me know."

"You are welcome, Master." He said, giving a courteous nod as he was escorted out of the annex. Pleased that he had given the news to his boss but feeling guilty for disturbing the man's sleep, the sandy-haired man returned to his car and headed to his own shack, intent on getting sleep.

Knowing that the Navy Yard was in utter chaos, he wickedly smiled, knowing the next step would soon be in play. His community had every intention on destroying the Navy Yard.

**Please review! It'll help get more chapters. :D**


	7. Chapter 7

**Sorry it has taken so long. As we all know, life can get hectic and what not. Please forgive me and R&R!**

**Thanks, Kellz**

_Chapter Seven_

_Temporary Navy Yard Headquarters_

_06:45 Hours_

Special Agent Walter Morris and his team flashed their badges to the guards posted outside the single door attached to an old red three-story brick building. A range of various conversations, cell phones and landlines ringing, people unloading and organizing the set-up was what the team was greeted with. Walter scanned the array of faces before his eyes caught Leon Vance's face.

"Come on, guys. He's over there." Walter informed, grabbing his gear and made his way to the man. "Director Vance?" Walter asked, setting down one bag.

"Yes?" Vance turned to him. He studied the group, still unsure who he could trust.

"I'm Special Agent Walter Morris. This is my team. "He introduced, gesturing to the three people behind him. Vance shook hands with the leader. "Special Agent Brandon Jackson, Tara Phillips, and Max Crowe. Director Hanley sent us."

"Glad you could make it. It's nice to meet you all. The agent who you need to see is Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs. He's at Bethesda." Vance informed them. "Better get going. It's been pretty crazy around here." Vance said as an agent came up to him with a folder and a question. "Oh. Morris?" Walter turned back to him. "I suggest calling him either by Jethro or Gibbs."

Morris only nodded as he followed his group toward the door.

NCIS

_Bethesda Memorial Hospital_

Gibbs sat at his son's bedside, waiting patiently for the young boy to wake. Abby was opposite him with Stella in her arms. He still couldn't fathom reason behind the bombing and its target of the Navy Yard. His eyes averted to his wife and daughter. He couldn't bare it if his family were killed, just like his first family. Gibbs was sure he would simply die.

Stella was watching her father, smiling innocently. A sudden urge to hold his second daughter overcame him, and Gibbs rose, walking around the bed and standing next to Abby.

"Honey," Gibbs said, holding out his hands for Stella. Abby looked up at him, understanding his need and gave their daughter up. Immediately, Gibbs held his daughter tightly against him.

"What are we going to do, Babe?" Abby asked, caressing Mikey's face as she pushed some of his unruly hair out of his sleeping face. Tears threatened to fall, replacing the already damp trail of previous tears. Glossy-eyed, she looked back up at Gibbs while still playing with Mikey's hair. "They've already killed and injured more than half of the Navy Yard. What makes people think they'll stop there?"

"Honey," Gibbs said softly as he rubbed Stella's back soothingly. His heart broke just a little bit more at his wife's shaken sense of security. He knew she would now feel uncertainty where safety lay. Obviously, their home was safe, but where else would be safe?

"Agent Gibbs?" a masculine voice asked. Gibbs looked up at the man who spoke to him. Three other people – two men and one woman – gathered behind the man, who was decked out in a brown suit.

"Yes." Gibbs held Stella against him, ready to strike at a moment's notice, as the group took it upon themselves to enter the room, assuming Gibbs had given them permission.

"I'm Special Agent Walter Morris from the Washington Field Office." The man introduced, watching as Gibbs' tense demeanor slipped into a grateful one. Gibbs held out his hand and the two shook hands.

"Glad to have you here, Morris." Gibbs said with a less cautious voice. "I take it you have the unfortunate luck of the draw to investigate the bombing." It was not a question, only an observation.

Morris nodded his head. He gestured back to his colleagues. "My second in command, Brandon Jackson; CIA operative-turned tech, Tara Phillips; and my unfortunate badass of the group, Max Crowe."

"Hey!" Max feigned offended.

Brandon ruffled his hair. "You know Wally's just messing with you, ol' Dark One." He said with a cheesy smile.

"Uh huh." Max responded, smacking his hands away.

Walter watched the two with amusement, as did Gibbs. "Knock it off, you two."

"Reminds me of my two." Gibbs said with a sadden expression.

"What have they told you?" Abby asked, drawing the five people's attention to her. She looked at Walter, expectingly.

"Not much." Walter answered. "Are you the famous Abby Sciuto all the forensic scientists always talk about?"

"That I am," She said, proudly with the usual bubbly aura that was normally her. She only gave a brief smile.

"It's nice to finally meet you, although under different circumstances would have been preferred." Max held out his hand, happy when she shook it. His wife was a big fan of hers. Oh, what she would have given to be here.

"Agreed." Abby said, sitting back to allow her son peace as he slept. "Perhaps, we should take this outside."

A coarse of "yes" and "good idea" were heard as the six adults filed out of the room. Once outside, Abby sat down with Stella in her arms. Gibbs leaned against the opposite wall of the room, right next to her; Tara and Walter sat in the other two chairs while Max and Brandon chose to stand.

Walter turned to Abby, softly questioning her. "What do you know?" He looked straight into her eyes before connecting eyes with Gibbs.

Abby's eyes threatened to release tears. She was so unstable in regards of her sense of security. "I-I was down in my lab, as usual, when I felt...heard...and...saw the building shake and crumble. I watch my lab be destroyed beyond repair and nearly died. Honestly, I'm not how any of us survived."

"My team is barely surviving because of them. Most of them hang in the balance right now." Gibbs had to stop himself. The reality of the situation heavily settled in his anger-restrained voice. Walter was surprised that the man could even contain his emotions. "I want these people dead! But before they die, I want to have a piece of them!"

Walter's team wasn't fazed by the man's outburst. "Gibbs, you will get justice..." He stood, walking to stand in front of the team leader, "but we can't go killing them. That won't solve anything."

Gibbs stood to his full height with crossed arms, a glare etched on his face. "Yes, it will." He said severe tone. "They'll learn _not_ to mess with my team." The two men eyed each other before Gibbs turned and headed back in the room with Abby following after him.

Walter watched the family as Abby reoccupied her seat, holding their son's hand as he woke, while Gibbs stood behind her, now holding Stella. The young boy was waking up and both parents leaned in, soothing him. He knew, along with his team, that this case was a handful and wouldn't be easy.

But they were up for the challenge.


	8. Chapter 8

**And I present you with two chapters in one day for everyone's patience. I really do apologize and hope I can get more frequent with updates! R&R!**

**Thanks, Kellz**

_Chapter Eight_

_Room 209_

_White blinding lights...several beeping sounds...sterile surroundings...something attached to his mouth..._these are the senses Tony woke to as he slowly opened his eyes. Quickly, he shut his eyes as his vision adjusted to the light. He felt tied down. The sudden realization that something was helping him breathe when he was quite capable caused him to start choking.

"_Tony_!" He heard his name being screamed. Then, the sound of a very familiar voice paging someone to come in the room frightened him even more. He heard racing footsteps coming their way to him. Then, a subtle pressure on his shoulder, the familiar voice urging him to relax. The pressure soon was taken away when he was ordered to open his eyes and release a deep breathe. He listened, coughing as the respirator tube was officially removed.

Tony's eyes surveyed the room, mentally noting his surroundings. His eyes landed on his probie, and instantly a relieved smile broke out. "Probie?" He croaked. McGee quickly got a cup of water for him to suck down.

"Feel better?" McGee asked, a half-smile hinting on his child-like face.

Tony nodded, following McGee's gaze. He settled on watching the doctor inform him of the situation and his injuries, ending with a "shocked that you are alive". "Ziva?" was all Tony whispered, ignoring the doctor and looking at McGee. At McGee's downcasted head, his heart sank. _She's not dead, is she? Please, God, don't let her be dead. _Tony begged to the heavens. _I can't live without her._

McGee looked back up at him, watching the pained expression cross over the older agent. "She's not dead, Tony. She's still in a coma."

He sighed, relieved but yet optimistic. Taking a deep breathe and releasing it slowly, he started to feel all of his injuries. McGee only noticed when Tony winced and he pressed the morphine button.

"How's Ton–" Gibbs asked just as he entered the room.

"Hey Boss," Tony said weakly, drifting off to sleep. He heard McGee and Gibbs' voices carry on a conversation as darkness swallowed him.

NCIS

_Room 211_

A loose grip on her hand, meant to be comfort, was woke the ex-Mossad assassin. Her eyes slowly adjusted to the light. Unlike Tony, she didn't require a ventilator, only a breathing tube. Her eyes fell upon her sleeping father, who looked quite uncomfortable. She noticed two guards stationed outside, assuming they were posted for her father.

Her head rolled as she took in her sterile surroundings. She'd much prefer Ducky's patching up to this; but from what she noticed, it was not advised. As she was noticing her surroundings, she assessed her injuries. She was so in tune that she failed to notice her father wake.

"Ziva." Eli David stated, his accent heavy. A brief smile crossed his lips as she turned to pay attention to him. "You are alive."

A darken look overcame her. "Why would I not be?" she said, flatly.

Eli looked at her with surprise. "You do not remember?" At the shake of her head, he explained. "Ziva...the Navy Yard was hit by several bombs yesterday. A lot of civilians are dead and many are injured. Vance has other groups from other offices coming in to investigate."

Her eyes grew big. "What the hell! Where is my team? Where is Tony?" She began to unhook herself from the machines. Eli went to stop her.

"Ziva, my daughter, please...stop. Settle down and get back in bed." He pleaded, guiding her to the bed and helping her get settled. "Only you, Tony, and Doctor Mallard were hurt the worst. Tony is a few doors down and Doctor Mallard is down the hall."

"Tony." Ziva was concerned, hurt, and longing to be near him. She wanted to ignore the pain that she would endure once she got up out of the bed and force her way to his room, but she knew her father would have none of it. Frankly, she didn't give a damn about him. It was her father's look that kept her in place. "I want to see Tony." She demanded.

Knowing she would not back down, Eli relented, a subtle nod prompted one of the guards to get a nurse and wheelchair. Ziva looked relieved and nervous. "Do not push yourself, my dear."

"I will not, Papa." She agreed.

A nurse brought a wheelchair with her and checked on Ziva's vitals before guiding her to the chair. Once she was settled, the female nurse escorted her two doors down.

"Tony!" Ziva released a full-fledge smile when she laid eyes on her partner. Tony jerked his head to the door, a mirroring smile erupting on his own face.

"Ziva!" He excited, relief pouring into his system. They may be hurt, but they were alive.

Gibbs patted her shoulder with a relieved smile. "Good to see you're awake, Ziver." Ziva nodded.

The nurse stopped her wheelchair beside Tony's bed, close enough that they could touch each other. Taking a quick look at the other patient, the nurse looked pleased as she left the group. Gibbs was leaning against the wall beside the door with crossed arms and a relieved appearance and McGee had been sitting but moved near Gibbs when the nurse put Ziva in his place. Palmer was opposite Tony, leaning against the wall. All looked relieved that this most of the team were halfway okay. She didn't see Abby or the kids. "Where are Abby and the children?" She asked, looking expectantly at Gibbs.

He dropped his arms and straightened. "Uh, she's with Mikey and Stella in Mikey's room." Gibbs broke eye contact momentarily. "He got hurt, but he'll be okay."

"I am sorry, Gibbs." She apologized, even though there was nothing she could have done to prevent the boy's pain.

"Don't apologize. Not your or any else's fault, other than the people responsible." Gibbs told her. She could hear the guilt ridden tone underlining.

"You are not at fault, either, Gibbs." Ziva stated, eyeing him and hoping he'd believe her.

Gibbs nodded, trying to keep cool for them; but he knew deep down he was responsible for this mess. Maybe, he could let it go.

Just this one time.

NCIS

_Room 235_

Palmer slid into the chair beside his mentor's bed. Ducky was in a deep coma. It was evident the hospital staff came to the grim conclusion that Ducky was likely headed to death. Palmer only hoped he would defeat the odds. At last, he thought, if Ducky were to die, he wouldn't be alone when he did.

"Doctor Mallard..." Palmer spoke up, pausing as he tried to gather his chaotic thoughts into one explanation. "Doctor, we really need you to come through. Our team is alive. Gibbs didn't give you permission to die on us. He'll be disappointed, and no one should disappoint Gibbs." Palmer wasn't sure if saying Gibbs' name was the best path to walk down, but he was desperate. "We still need you. I can't hand–"

"Jimmy?" a soft, familiar voice interrupted him. He turned to see Abby standing at the door, alone. She tentatively entered the room. "Perhaps, I can help."

Palmer wasn't sure how she'd be able to help, but if anyone could reach him, he was willing. As she moved closer to their dear old friend, he moved out of the way, slipping over to the other side. Abby sat down in the chair he had been previously sitting in, took Ducky's hand, and started softly speaking to him.

There was still no response. Both were disappointed and the mutual _I-hope-he-wakes-soon_ thought passed through their minds.


	9. Chapter 9

**Hey everyone! Here's the next part! I hope you enjoy and thank you for those who's sent me the feedback. I appreciate it! R&R**

**-Kellz **

_Chapter Nine_

_Some Weeks Later_

_8:45_

Gibbs walked through the conference room of the makeshift NCIS headquarters. Today, his team and Walter's team were going to join forces to figure out what happened. Although in the past Gibbs hasn't been particularly fond of teaming up, he knew their current problem was one that needed a lot of people to help. His team sat on one side of the long, oval table while the second team sat opposite them. Walter was in deep discussion with Vance at the head of the table.

"I thought the meeting was at nine?" Gibbs wondered out loud, checking his watch, certain he hadn't misheard the previous day.

"Gibbs, you're on time." Vance gestured to the opposite end of the table. "The teams are just eager."

Gibbs eyed the temporary members warily and glared at his team as he took the helm. He waited for Vance to start.

Walter stood beside his team, waiting for the decision to be made.

"Okay, so we have two teams that would be more efficient than one. Gibbs, I need you to cooperate with Agent Morris." Vance eyed him, smiling when Gibbs nodded. "Okay, we are going to establish what the hell happened."

"Director?" Walter interrupted. At Vance's subtle nod to continue, Walter glanced over to Gibbs. "I'd like Agents Crowe and McGee to work on locating the origin of this file." He dropped the file, opened to the view of the entire group of people. Several papers had lists of different names and associations to terrorist groups. "It was in my hotel room when we decided to get some sleep."

It was the first lead NCIS in general had received to give them an idea of the bombing. Gibbs snatched it first, lifting it in the air to look through its contents before he passed it on to his senior field agent. He had no clue who the names or groups were. From the looks of it though, neither did his team.

But Vance did.

"Who do you recognize?" Gibbs questioned, causing the two teams to look at their leader.

"A couple of the names and two groups. I dealt with them while I was doing undercover work in the Middle East." Vance explained, holding the file in his hands. He looked directly at Gibbs. "They're after me, Gibbs."

NCIS

"Vrrroooommm!" Mikey squealed as he sat in his bedroom, playing with his ever-building collection of Matchbox cars. "Awwww!" He animatedly spoke as he crashed two cars together.

His mother was downstairs in the laundry room, gathering supplies to clean the house with. While Gibbs was away, she figured it would be easier to get the house halfway cleaned before her husband attempted to help, only further causing more of a mess instead.

Mikey stopped what he was doing when he heard the sound of someone walking over the wooden bedroom floor. Smiling from ear to ear was his sister, looking a little like she wanted to play.

Setting the cars down, he made his hands available for her to see. _Do you want to play?_ He signed.

At her nod, he signaled her to come to him and she did. Having grown up with a deaf sister, he had learned sign language from his parents after they first discovered her deafness. With that, he had vowed to himself to be a good big brother and always look after her. Perhaps, in the process, he had matured a little quicker than most boys his age; but Mikey wouldn't trade it for anything. He was really smart and everyone knew it. After all, his mother was genius and his father was pretty smart too.

Pulling out two more cars, he handed them to Stella, who took them and started playing with them, although minus the sound affects added to the crashes and what not. He laughed a few times when she tried to trick him.

"You two staying out of trouble?" came his gravel voiced mother. Abby leaned against the door frame with a smile on her face.

Mikey stopped and looked up while Stella continued to play. "Tryin' to, Mommy. We are Daddy's kids after all." He said with a smirk.

"Oh I'm very well aware of that." She said, standing to her full height. "Daddy should be finishing up his meeting and on his way back home. Better get ready."

He nodded as his answer. His mother picked up his sister and walked out of his bedroom, closing the door after her so that he could change out of his pajamas to whatever outfit suited him.

Leaving his toys where they were, he went to his custom-size dresser (that his father had made) and gathered a T-shirt and pants for the day. Since the bombing and release, his parents tried to take them out to lunch and usually take a trip somewhere once a week, to kinda of escape from the depressive state that held their jobs. While he and Stella played at the whichever fast food joint they went to (it varied every week), his parents would do whatever adults did. He never understood why they refused to enter the playlands.

Just as he finished dressing, he heard the front door open. Grinning, he threw open the door and darted downstairs, throwing himself in his father's arms – much like his mother still did.

"Daddy!" He screamed as Gibbs pulled his son into his arms.

"Mikey!" Gibbs spoke in a similar tone. He was happy to see that his family was okay, not that his home wasn't being threatened. There wasn't any prove, but he preferred them being near him. "Where's Mommy and Stella?" He wondered.

They heard a "in here" coming from the kitchen and so as Gibbs lowered his son to the floor, they walked into the kitchen, finding Abby finishing cleaning the countertops while Stella played with a few baby toys in her high chair.

"Hey pretty girl." Gibbs smiled, touching the girl's cheek as he pulled Abby in his arms, kissing her quickly before their son started his "ew" thing like someone else they knew had done once or twice.

"Ewwww!" Mikey said with a disgusted look.

Gibbs pulled away from Abby, looking at the five-year-old pointing at him. "You are hanging out with Tony _way_ too much." He turned to Abby, a small smile lacing his lips. "I'm forbidding our son from seeing our equally immature son."

Abby gasped, joining in his teasing while Mikey protested. She smacked his chest lightly with a mischevious smile. "Tony may be immature, but he does make a good babysitter for our date nights!"

Abby walked away.

"So you're using _my_ senior field _agent_ as a babysitter?" Gibbs teased, unbuckling Stella from the high chair and lifting her into his arms. "Tony is not qualified to be a babysitter. He's being a bad influence on my son."

Abby put away the cleaning supplies as she responded in an equal teasing tone. "Tony is not a bad influence. He's just...Tony."

"He was telling Mikey how to flirt with girls." Gibbs pointed out.

"One time!" Abby stressed, quickly washing her hands. "Ziva fixed that problem."

"I noticed that." Gibbs secretly thanked Ziva for head slapping him. "Good thing he doesn't quite understand the whole thing. Lord knows I can't handle two Anthony DiNozzo, Jrs."

"I'm ready to go!" Mikey was impatient, just like his father.

"Okay, Bub." Gibbs responded, dropping the Tony conversation, as they headed for the car.

"I don't any of us can." Abby said in regards to the Tony conversation. "Except maybe Ziva."

"Gotta love Ziver for that." Gibbs commented as the door shut after him.


	10. Chapter 10

******I am so sorry that I haven't updated this story. My muse for it has been stubborn, but hopefully she'll be nice and let me update more often.**** Enjoy!  
><strong>

**-Kellz **

_Chapter Ten_

Tony threw a balled up piece of a paper into the small waste can in his living room. Smiling, he looked over at Ziva, who was not impressed. In her hands was a copy of the file folder with all its contents. With crossed legs underneath her body, she looked very at home in his apartment.

Ever since the bombing and waking up in the hospital, they had started seeing each other. At first, Gibbs hadn't been thrilled – repeatedly mentioning something about Rule 12 and handing out a few additional head slaps to Tony – but he let up, satisfied when Tony and Ziva kept it out of the office. It really came to no surprise; it was, after all, inevitable.

Another thrown balled paper caused Ziva to react. "_Tony_! Will you _stop_?" She snapped, glaring at him.

Tony's eyes went wide. "Oohh, do I detect my ninja chick getting her feathers ruffled?" He teased.

"Now is not the time to play games! We need to focus." She stated, gesturing to the file in her hands.

Tony had other plans, though. He leaned forward, arms open to encircle her. "Oh, sweet cheeks. We're home. Play time!"

She allowed him to love on her, even give her a kiss before she grew serious again. "Nuh-uh, my little hairy butt. Play time later. Someone is after the Director, possibly us."

Tony frowned, disappointed. Pulling away, he pouted. "Zee-vah!"

But Ziva stayed strong, shaking her head. "Later. Now..." Looking back down at the file, she pointed to something. "I know this man, Ishmael Jarrah. He worked with me during our undercover op four years ago."

Tony leaned in to get a better look at the man. "You mean when we were split up?"

"Yes." Ziva highlighted the name with a bright yellow marker. She had plans to get intel on this man with her contacts tomorrow.

Months ago, Tony may have gotten jealous but now that they were in a relationship, that jealousy had long left his system. "We need to call Gibbs and Vance." He reached for his phone, starting to dial the familiar number before a hand on his forearm stopped him.

"No, Tony. Let me call my contacts in the morning before letting them know. Besides, Gibbs is out with the family. Do not disturb them right now." Ziva closed the file. "I am ready for bed. Are you?"

Tony cleared the phone and rose, slipping it in his pants pocket. "Sure." He held out his hands for her to take. Pleased that she didn't bat them away, he pulled her up, pressing their bodies flush against each other. "Are you ready for bed bed or just bed?" He wiggled his eyebrows in a suggestive way.

Ziva flashed him a seductive smiled. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

He beamed. "Yes, I would."

She kissed him before taking his hand and leading him to the bedroom.

The sandy-haired man stepped out of his shack, slamming the door after him. Taking a bite out of a piece of bacon, he looked around the base. Members of the camp were just now waking. They were mobilizing, preparing for the next step.

He saw the Headmaster, stepping out of the annex with one of his advisors. They were in deep discussion. As the sandy-haired man approached them, he finished eating the piece of bacon and heard bits of the conversation.

"Master?" He stood at attention, waiting for his boss to acknowledge him. With a subtle nod, he relaxed, waiting until the discussion was finished. He began speaking when the Headmaster gave him his undivided attention. "I am getting people in place. You just give us the go ahead and we can head out."

"Remember, Ishmael, do not kill him. _I_ want to be given that opportunity." The Headmaster pointed at him.

"Definitely, sir." Ishmael nodded in affirmation.

"Now, however, if you happen to get in a sticky situation, do what you must." The headmaster lowered his hand, taking a deep breath. "You smell that, Ishmael?"

Ishmael nodded, despite not actually smelling anything other than the dusty land.

"_That_ is the smell of Leon Vance's blood." The Headmaster laughed, evilly. "He's _mine_!"

**So the plot has found some direction...or has it? **


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer as always. Enjoy!  
><strong>

* * *

><p><em>Chapter Eleven<em>

He didn't realize at the time that his whole life would change when he made that decision. Looking at the file in the study room, he sipped on some scotch while he tried to figure out where the hell he would go from here. He needed to keep his family safe, maybe he could send them to his wife's mother's home in Chicago. The Navy Yard was out of the question. Although he was happy with SecNav in his effort to rebuild the beloved Yard.

When he felt arms snake around his shoulders and hands splay over his chest, he smiled. "What are you doing up, honey?"

"Making sure you put away work and come to bed." She whispered, pulling away and walking around the chair to stand in front of him with her hands on her hips. "Come on, sweetie." She urged, holding out his hand.

He smiled. "Okay." He folded the file and set it in his briefcase before taking her hand as she helped him stand. Grabbing the glass of scotch, he went to the kitchen to pour out the contents.

She waited at the doorway, taking his hand as they walked out of the kitchen and she leading him to their bedroom. After they entered, he closed the door.

A stillness seemed to settle on the Vance property...until it suddenly burst into flames.

Gibbs was asleep beside Abby, who had nestled herself against him, when he heard his cell phone begin to ring. Thankfully, it was on the nightstand beside him. He woke with a jolt, popping his eyes open and finding himself in the master bedroom. Because of his sudden movement, Abby woke.

"Jethro..." she trailed off, her voice thick with sleep.

"Hang on, Babe." He whispered, pulling out of bed and answering the cell. "Yeah, Gibbs."

"They've gotten to Leon, Gibbs." Jarvis told him.

Gibbs quickly sat up in bed. "What! When? Where?"

"His house. Leon's at the hospital."

"On my way." Gibbs responded before hanging up.

Abby sat up too. "What's going on, Jethro?"

"Something happened to Vance at his home. Jarvis is there." Gibbs threw back the covers and started searching for an outfit. "Whoever this is is targeting Vance."

"Oh my god. What can I do?" Abby asked as he came back from the closet with jeans and a white T-shirt. He stopped at the bed, throwing the clothes there while he pulled his night shirt off.

"Stay here with the kids. Be alert. I'll call you when I know more. I'm gonna call Darren and have him stay with you guys." He said, dropping the shirt in the laundry basket and grabbing a pair of socks. He quickly put on the clothes before walking back to the nightstand and grabbing his wallet, watch, badge. "I love you, Abby." He leaned on the bed and kissed her.

"I love you, too." She automatically responded in just as much a soft voice as he did.

Gibbs walked into each of their children's room and kissed them both on the forehead. He whispered "I love you" to each of them before he went to grab his gun from the gun safe in the office where – after his father's insistence – it was moved. He unlocked the door and grabbed the keys on the side table on his way out. Taking a brief moment, he actually locked the door after him.

When he arrived at the scene, he was met with his team and several other agents. Walter's team were surveying the scene. The same grim look were all on their faces. The scene before them just served as a reality to the situation. Without the equipment to conduct a faster investigation, Gibbs dreaded how long it would be.

"Boss." Tony greeted him, the childish and movie-quoted antics disappeared. "From what we gathered, one bomb was placed near the furnace in the basement and another under Vance's car. We're not sure what was used on either in the explosives nor how they were activated."

"Where's Vance and his family?" Gibbs asked as Walter emerged from inside the barely standing charred frame of was once a home.

"At Bethesda." Walter answered, coming to stand beside him as they both watched the activity before them. A moment of silence was passed between them. Walter turned his head to look Gibbs in the eye. "It doesn't look good for them. Why don't you and your team go be with him while you still can? I know you guys are lot closer to him than we are. We can handle the crime scene." Walter scoffed. "Besides, we were called in to not only investigate this case but also to protect your team as much as we can."

Although Gibbs really wanted to be alongside Walter as they both investigated the Vance Residence, he also wanted to be there when they had more information on the statuses of the four Vance family members. "You win, Morris." He didn't even look at him. "But keep me informed." He turned and stepped closer, using his full height to get his unspoken message across.

Like Abby, Walter wasn't fazed by his attempted intimidation. He turned back to the scene. "You have my word, Gibbs."

A quick single nod was all Walter got from the man who everyone knew as a hard ass. He walked away, closer to his agents. "DiNozzo, David, McGee!" When the three agents turned their attention to their boss. "With me!" He yelled and turned to walk to his car.

Walter chuckled as the three scrambled to catch up to their boss.


	12. Chapter 12

__**So I'm sorry for not updating regularly, but I'm having a bit of trouble figuring out how I want the story to go. Anyone got any ideas? PM if you do. Thanks for all the alerts, reviews, hits, and favorites! I appreciate it!**

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><p><em>Chapter Twelve<em>

Gibbs sat, bent over, on the chair across from Vance's room, his elbows on his knees and his hands running down his face. It's not supposed to happen like this. The military was supposed to be strong, structured. What the hell happened?

He sat back up, sliding his hands onto his knees. Vance lay still, clearly unconscious and hooked up to all kinds of machines. There was no telling when he would rejoin the world. The doctors informed Gibbs that Vance was in a coma, but they weren't sure whether it would be long-term or a short one. _It was up to him_, they said.

_Snap out of it, Leon!_ He chastised his boss, standing and approaching the glass wall. Gibbs rested his hand against the cool surface, the sickening feeling in his stomach threatening to fall. _You have a duty. You belong here._

"Boss!" DiNozzo's approaching voice steered him from his thoughts. He straightened, taking his hand off the glass and turning to face his agent.

"What'd ya get?" He asked in his typical gruff voice.

"Not much." DiNozzo looked ashamed.

"Where's Ziva and McGee?" He asked, looking past his senior field agent to find the other two.

"Uh...Ziva...you don't wanna know and Probie is McProbing." DiNozzo threw in his frat boy smile.

Gibbs' glare made his smirk falter. Pointing at him, Gibbs warned him. "Do not make me slap you, DiNozzo."

His eyes widened, his vision narrowing on the single digit in front of his face. "Got it, Boss."

"Where are they?" Gibbs asked once more, coolly.

"Here, Gibbs!" Ziva called as she and McGee were approaching them.

He was relieved. Since the bombing, he developed this need to have his family close to him. In a glimpse of his eye, they could disappear just like that; but he'd like to at least be there.

Gibbs had sent his agents back to the crime scene, opting to staying behind in hopes that he would receive word on the family's condition. He had resumed his previous position, sitting in the chair across from the Director's room.

_This is crazy. Who did he pissed off so much that they would attempt to eliminate everything the man before him cared about?_ Gibbs wondered, suddenly gripping his jacket where his vibrating cell phone was. The word _Abby_ with her picture showed up on his screen. _She must've been 'upgrading' – as she likes to call it – my phone again._

"Yeah, honey." He greeted, flipping the phone open just before speaking.

"Any news?" Her small, child-like voice always had made him want to pull her into his arms and protect her.

He ran a hand through his hair, looking down the hallway where he assumed the medical staff would like him know. "Well, Vance is in critical condition. He's hooked up to a ventilator, IV, heart monitor...basically every monitor known to man. They haven't given any news on his family." He paused, turning his head back to Vance's room. "Honestly, from the way the house looked, I don't know how Vance is still alive. I suspect his family weren't so lucky since no one's updated me."

"Oh God..." she trailed off, the compassion in her voice evident. "Sweetie, please come home. Tony can handle the rest. Walter's there."

Gibbs stood, approaching the room again. Unable to venture further into the room, he leaned against the door frame. Despite how much of an ass Vance could be, Gibbs had _some_ respect for the man. Okay, not much, but at least the man kept his team together all these years later.

"Jethro?" Abby's voice pulled him back to the present.

"Yes, sweetie?" Gibbs automatically responded, shaking the reminiscence away. "I'm coming."

"Okay, see you when I get home." Abby sounded more cheerful. Gibbs had to smile; of course, he nearly always did. "Love you."

"Love you back." Gibbs returned, ending the call before looking at Vance and then leaving.

On his way back home, he had called Tony to let him know what was going on and to update him. Darren stood watch on the front porch, but he left when Gibbs arrived. Heading inside, he tried to be as quiet as possible, but Abby came bounding downstairs and engulfed in a bone-crushing hug.

He indulged her for a moment before pulling back, trying to read her red-rimmed eyes. "Sweetie," he said in a soft tone, "what's the matter?"

"The hospital called. They were trying to get a hold of you but when I told them I was your wife, they informed me about Vance's family." Abby wiped away a few strayed tears.

_So that's why they didn't approach me._ "What did they say?"

"His wife died, but the kids made it. They're in critical condition, too."

Gibbs sighed, heavily. His heart grew heavy as well. He looked away from her, pulling her into his arms and resting his head on top of hers. Slightly pulling back, he looked into her eyes. "I promise you we will get this bastard. You know our team doesn't give up."

Abby sniffled, wiping away more tears. "I know."

He cradled her face in his hands before kissing her. She lead him upstairs to the bedroom.


	13. Chapter 13

**Hey all! Thank you for all the reviews, etc.**

**Disclaimer as usual**

**-Kellz**

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><p><em>Chapter 13<em>

_Following Morning_

The aroma of fresh coffee drifted into the master bedroom where Gibbs had been soundly sleeping until it made its present well known. Opening his eyes, he saw Abby setting his favorite cup on the bedside table. She hadn't notice him stirring until casting a glance at his previous peaceful face.

"Good morning," She softly greeted with a warm smile.

"Morning." Gibbs returned the greeting, matching her tone and everything. Sitting up, he stretched, remaining sitting on the bed and reached for her, drawing her in. "Mmmm..." He sighed, happily with a smile on his face. "Wish we could stay here in this peaceful and innocent moment forever."

She looked down at him, her left hand on his shoulder while her right played with his hair. "I do, too." When he looked up at her with that unguarded smile that was only seen in front of her and the kids, the world seemed to still.

Until Mikey interrupted their moment. "Mommy, I can't carry her."

Both adults looked at the doorway where Mikey was trying his best to carry his sister into the room. Of course, Stella was protesting in his arms. They laughed at the scene.

Mikey set her down, looking at them as if they were crazy. "What?"

"Nothing, son." Abby said, still quietly chuckling. She broke away from Gibbs and picked up a waddling Stella. "Come here, sweetie." Stella happily went into her arms.

Gibbs held out his arms for Mikey. "C'mon Bub. Let's go." Mikey bolted for his father, squealing when his father stood up, lifting him above his head.

The family went downstairs, leaving the untouched coffee cup steaming away.

_Hours Later_

Gibbs watched Mikey get on the bus to the local daycare. Stella was going to stay with Abby in the makeshift lab, staying in a playpen while her mother worked.

Returning to the office, he carried his favorite to-go cup, sipping on it. His team were searching for anything that would help them. Tony had paired up with Brandon going over Leon's past; Tim, Tara, and Max were looking through bank records, etc. He noticed Ziva on the phone, talking very irritably in Hebrew. She glanced in his direction, connecting eyes, before looking back down at the table, writing rapidly.

Walter came up behind him, standing next to him. "You know, Gibbs, our teams work well together." He stated, coffee cup in hand and staring at what Gibbs was.

Gibbs took a sip of his coffee. "Yep." He said softly after swallowing.

"How's the Director?" Walter asked, glancing at Gibbs, who was still staring at their teams.

Finally, after a few minutes, Gibbs turned to Walter. "His wife's dead and the kids are hanging on for dear life." He answered with compassion.

Walter regarded him, seeing a whole different side of the ex-Marine. He should have known Leon's "A" team was somewhat close to him. Gibbs turned back around, leaving him alone to his thoughts as he drew the attention to both of their teams.

"Whad'da got?" He asked, setting his cup on Tony and Brandon's table.

"Not much, Boss." Tony answered with hesitation. "Just this."

Brandon showed him the documents. Walter, who had just shook out of his thoughts, came forward, still sipping on his cup. "B?"

Brandon looked up before looking back down, thumbing through his set of documents. "From the name Dav-eed," At this teasing, Tony glared and Ziva picked up a paperclip. Tony smiled. Brandon continued, "supplied us, I've found more information on Ishmael Jarrah. He's from Baghdad; went to college in America, specializing in political business; he lives in Roswell, New Mexico. No family." Brandon looked up at the two leaders, expectantly, hoping for a compliment from them both.

"All right. Gear up. We're headed to New Mexico." Gibbs announced. His team, except for Ziva who was still on the phone holding up one digit, were getting up and grabbing their bags. "What is it, Ziver?"

"Jarrah doesn't live there anymore!" Ziva announced, bolting up and heading over to Gibbs with the notepad in hand. She should it to him. "He lives in the outskirts in Texas."

"That's not _that_ far from New Mexico," commented Tony, looking at Brandon.

"Yeah," Brandon teased, looking back at Tony. "You can just _hop_ over the hurdle."

Both leaders looked at each other before Walter tilted his head in their direction. Gibbs reached up and slapped them both on the back of their heads. Tony winced, not surprised; Brandon on the other hand acted similar to the first time Tony got smacked.

"Wally?" Brandon asked, shocked before looking over at a very amused Gibbs. "Did he just..." he started, rubbing his head.

Tony rubbed his own head. "Oh yeah, he did. He does."

Meanwhile the remaining members of Teams Gibbs and Morris were laughing (Gibbs) and shocked (Morris). The bosses turned and walked out of the building.

"You get used to it." Tony said, slinging the strap onto his left shoulder. The team members scurried to meet up their rightful boss, with Ziva speeding up to catch up.

_Four Hours Later_

Gibbs stepped out of the airport, his duffel bag slung behind his back supported by his left hand, and instantly squinted his eyes. The falling sun sprouted a beautiful sea of colors as it slipped into bed for the night. Instantly, he pulled his sunglasses from his suit jacket and slipped them on. The wind tousled his silver-hair.

He glanced back at his team. Tony sprouted his sunglasses and listening to that iPack-thingy or whatever that his wife and son were always raving about. He remembered what she had done with his – saved for their son. He just recently got it for his birthday. Anyway, he shook his head, back to Tony. His second-in-command had his backpack on completely, carrying his duffel by the straps with his left hand. Ziva had her bags in a similar position with her musical thingy in her ears, but she was checking out her surroundings. _Always the assessor, Ziver._ He mused. McGee was next to him, wearing his backpack like Tony and Ziva, but his duffel was on the ground as he focused on his navigator-thingy.

Gibbs realized the younger agent was talking to him. McGee glanced at him and stopped when he realized Gibbs hadn't been listening to him. "You okay, Boss?" Tim asked with concern.

"Yeah." Gibbs answered, distractedly. He glanced at the agent. At the man's concerned expression, Gibbs gave up. "Just reminds of a long time ago, in a different place."

McGee deduced what he was talking about, choosing not to bring that devastating time up. Instead, he lowered the device and checked out his own surroundings. "You know, Boss, if I ever travel out of the US, I'd rather have you with me than someone who don't know what they're doing." McGee smiled.

Gibbs was touched, but then he rose an eyebrow.

McGee got that scared look and started stuttering his words. "Of course, Tony and Ziva would be there too, but just saying."

"You feel safe with me." Gibbs patted him on the back. "I get it." He looked down at the device. "You aren't gonna need that, though." He started walking to the car that just arrived.

"Why?" McGee sounded, confused and uncertain. He shoved the device in his bag, grabbed it, and caught up to him. The others did as well.

Gibbs bent over enough to look in the car, then stood again. "Because this car already has one." He pointed.

McGee smirked as he took the keys from the valor. He muttered a thanks before pressing the trunk button. The group dumped their bags in the back and then got in. McGee sat in front, handing the keys to his boss and messing with the navigation system.

"Where am I going, McGee?" Gibbs asked as he got ready to leave.

"Hang on just a sec." McGee finished, pressing the last button. "Just listen to it."

_What ever happened to carrying a folded up map and drawing the lines to your designation. _Gibbs thought as the voice started speaking. _Maybe I should have either McGee or DiNozzo drive. Definitely NOT Ziva. God, I'm getting too old for this crap._


	14. Chapter 14

**Okay, so I'm gonna forewarn you all now: the ending of this chapter gets a little strange and is in tribute to "Life Before His Eyes" and taken from a scene in the newest _A __Haunting in Connecticut_. Don't ask me, it just came to me. I apologize ahead of time if it makes no sense or you don't like it. I just thought it'd kinda be cool.**

** Anyway, disclaimer: Don't own NCIS or A Haunting in Connecticut.**

**-Kellz**

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><p><em>Chapter 14<em>

_Southern Texas_

_Key Ring Camp_

Ishmael Jarrah – the sandy-haired man – opened the door to his shack, prompted from the volume crescendo of the community. He saw two cars rushing down the dirt path, kicking a cloud of dust behind them. As he walked toward the center of the community – a water fountain, his panicked eyes fell upon the leader. A subtle nod told him the plan that placed months before if they were questioned.

The cars stopped just outside the gated community. All four doors of both vehicles opened, revealing six men and two women. All decked out in either business or semi-business attire. They took a look around the surroundings.

He heard two of them joking and was tempted to off them, fingering his knife clipped to his waistband. One quick look from his boss, and he stilled. No one dared to cross the Headmaster unless they didn't want to ever be seen again. Unfortunately, he'd witnessed this many times.

The one – a silver-haired man – who seemed to be in charge approached the gate as the Headmaster greeted him. They exchanged words, whether those were charged words or not he'd never know. He scanned the other faces, recognizing the darker woman.

_Ziva David._ His eyes narrowed. _She's mine._ He thought, fingering the knife once more. Casting a glance over at the second-in-command, he gave him a fidgeting look. The second-in-command noticed it and gave him the calm down sign. When Ishmael looked back at the group, Ziva David was staring at him with narrowed eyes.

_Awe, so we have mutual feelings._ He glanced at the man who came closer to her and glared at him. _Is this your husband? Your father would disapprove. I'll end him while you watch, just like you had done to me._

Ziva was tempted to attack Ishmael. A touch on her forearm kept her planted. She looked away to find Tony the one who touched her.

"What's wrong, Ziva?" His voice held no humor, no childish mannerism just complete seriousness.

"Ishmael is standing by the water fountain." She said. "He and I have more than just undercover op business. I was forced to kill his wife when she compromise our op. Unfortunately, she had been apart of the business more than he knew. He has wanted revenge on me ever since."

"Don't worry, ninja. I'll protect you." Tony was serious, but she had to smile. Wasn't she usually the one protecting him? _This should be good._ She mused.

"I need to speak with Ishmael Jarrah." Gibbs informed the governor of the community. Walter was standing next to him, scanning the growing crowd for their suspect. Finally spotting him, he kept a trained eye on the man, whom he noticed, looked fidgety.

"What is this all about, Agent Gibbs?" The man asked, feigning clueless.

"Something happened in DC that may or may not have involved him." Gibbs mentioned, giving the famous glare that actually intimidated the otherwise ruthless boss. It was amazing just how scary Gibbs could be when in the right conditions.

The Headmaster turned to Ishmael, whose eyes had returned to their innocent appearance. He jerked his head to his right, signaling the younger man to come here. Ishmael obeyed. Standing next to the Headmaster, Ishmael looked the federal agent over. He wasn't sure how to react. "Ishmael, they are here to ask you some questions. Just be honest and cause no trouble, okay?" Ishmael nodded. The Headmaster looked up to Gibbs. "Come. Speak with him in the community center. You're far from the city."

Gibbs and Walter looked at each other, regarding the other's thoughts. Walter broke first, nodding his head in confirmation. "All right." Gibbs agreed, turning to his team, raising his hand and signaling them to follow them. Walter did the same, leading the eight federal agents.

Ziva stood next to Gibbs, warning him of the possible danger. "Tread carefully and be very aware of all of them. We cross them the wrong way and we may not make it out alive." She stressed in a quiet voice.

"Okay, Ziver." Gibbs agreed, knowing she carried the same gut warning he felt. "Got your ninja skills up to date?" He smiled.

She smirked. "Yes." She assured.

"Good, 'cause we'll need them." Gibbs stated, watching the residences with a careful eye.

"_Gibbs..." His name floats in the distance as he hears a steady beeping sound and soft incoherent voices. There is a tingling sensation all over his body. It doesn't hurt, just feels weird. "Gibbs..." There he hears it again as he comes closer to reality, the sluggish cloud surrounding him starting to slowly dissolve. He recognizes it as a female voice, whether it was Ziva or the woman on Walter's team he doesn't know. _

_ Trying with all he had, he still couldn't open his eyes. The sluggish cloud isn't leaving him quick enough. Suddenly, he feels his arm being lifted without his consent, its heaviness quite apparent. Someone is messing with his fingers. A panic sweeps through his body, the urge to jerk away becomes too much. He tries to pull away, only to realize that his brain and body were on completely different wave lengths._

What the hell?_ He wonders. _Wake up, Gibbs! Up now! _He screams at himself, the act of survival kicks in._

_Suddenly, his eyes are open. Blinking a few times, he realizes he's sitting in the bullpen at his desk. It's daylight and obviously busy, but where's his team? Curiosity gets the better of him, so he rises out of his seat and ventures to the elevator where a much older Mikey comes off the now opened elevator and makes a beeline to Tony's desk._

_ Gibbs just watches the older Mikey – decked in a blue polo shirt, light khakis, and black dress shoes. He's thin yet muscular. His dark hair is short, much like what his uncle wears. Mikey's piercing blue eyes look in his direction after he finds what he's looking for. He starts to head back to the elevator when his name is called._

_ "Gibbs!" the booming voice of Timothy McGee halts Mikey's attempts of escape._

_ Gibbs looks up at the mezzanine where a much older McGee – who is most likely in his fifties – stands with an irritated voice, his hands on the rails of the mezzanine and the aura of authority in the air around him._

_ Mikey cringes before slowly turning to face McGee. "Yes, Director?" He squeaks out._

What the hell? My boy...afraid of his uncle? And McGee as director? What the hell is going on? _He begins to wonder, starting to step forward and tell off this new McGee for yelling at his boy. An hand on his forearm stops him._

_ He turns to see Mike standing beside him. "They can't hear you, Probie."_

_ "What the hell, Mike?" Gibbs looks back at the bullpen. "What happened?"_

_ McGee's voice suddenly interrupts them. "Where's Mitchell?"_

_ Mikey still looks a little terrified. "With Mom and Nichols ."_

_ McGee seems to accept his answer. "Tell him I need to see him when he gets back up here." _

_ "Yes, sir." Mikey turned back around to head to the elevator, a folder in hand. _

_ As the doors close, Gibbs turns his attention back on his predecessor. "What happened, Mike?"_

_ "You, DiNozzo and Ziva died at that camp. They nursed you back to health, only to let you watch your subordinates and the other team be murdered. There was nothing you could do; there were too many people and you were tied to a chair. Only McGee managed to survive. How? I couldn't tell you. My namesake made it his mission to take down those responsible for his entire family's pain. Your boy is definitely smart and very savvy with a gun. Something I take it, he inherited from you." Mike explains. "Come on, Probie. Let's check out downstairs."_

_ Mike gestures to the elevators where they step on and Mike presses the autopsy floor – B1. It doesn't even start. The next moment Gibbs finds them in Autopsy where an older Jimmy Palmer is performing an autopsy on their current victim. He talks to them, just like Ducky does. A young woman stands opposite of him, watching intently and asking questions when the opportunity comes. _

_ "Madelyn?" Palmer grabs the assistant's attention. "Can you please get me the saw?"_

_ "Yes, Dr. Palmer." Madelyn quickly hands him the appropriate item._

_ Neither man turn their heads when Palmer starts to saw the skull off._

_ "Where's Ducky?" Gibbs asks, scanning the room for his dear old friend._

_ "He passed on when Mikey was ten." Mike informed him. "Of all the things Mallard could have died from, he passed away from a brain a__neurysm__."_

_ Gibbs looks surprised. "Wow. Never would have thought."_

_ Mike turns and gestures with his hand. "Come on, Probie. Let's see the rest of your family."_

_ Suddenly, they appear in Abby's inner office, watching the scene from behind the glass wall. Mikey comes in, handing – whom Gibbs assumes is Mitchell – the folder._

_ "Thanks, Gibbs." This Mitchell guy casts a smile as a thank you before he opens the file and looks at its content._

_ "The Director wants to see you when you go back up, Mitch." Mikey informs his boss, turning to look at what Abby has on the screen. "What's that?" He asks, pointing at her computer as he comes closer to the blown up image. What it is, Gibbs and Mike aren't able to see. _

_ Mitchell, the only woman there besides Abby who Gibbs assume is Nichols, and Abby look at the screen. "Actually, I'm not sure. It looks like..." Abby turns around and goes to her evidence table, thumbing through the many bags of evidence before lifting a small bag with what Gibbs assumes is a mashed up bullet. "Ah, here it is!" Abby's smile broke out as she turned back around. "Thanks for pointing that out, Mike."_

_ Mikey smiles hugely. "No problem."_

_ Gibbs can't help but notice Abby's attire has changed from the mini skirts and huge boots to a more business attire – at least she wears strictly black pants with chains hanging loosely on them. Gibbs can't help but to smile. Some things never change with Abby. She still wears the gothic make-up, though._

_ "I'll get on this and let you know when I'm finished, Mitchell." Abby says._

_ "Okay, Abby." Mitchell turns and leaves, followed by Nichols, but Mikey hangs back._

_ Mikey notices his mother fingering a medium-size framed photo of a time before the Key Ring Murders happened. Gibbs comes closer, discovering its a photo from his back porch. Palmer and Ducky are sitting on the top step; Abby and Ziva sit on the second. Tony and McGee sit sideways, one leg resting on the bottom step. He sits on the bottom step with Mikey's arms wrapped loosely around his neck. The boy is in the middle of Tony and McGee, laying all his body weight against his father. Gibbs holds Stella in his hands. Vance sits on the patio, his back against the wall, stretched out in front of Gibbs. They are all smiling and a few of them are laughing, probably at something Tony said._

_ Gibbs recognizes it. His father had taken it just this summer._

_ "I miss them, too, Mom." Mikey says in a sadden voice. He's looking at his mother with such heart-breaking expression._

_ "If only your father could see you now." Abby turns to look at him. "He would be very proud of you." She brushes her hand down his cheek. _My boy_. Then, she cups his face._

_ "I know Mom." Mikey lifts his hand to place over hers. "I better catch up. Lord knows Mitch is gonna be an ass."_

_ "Okay." Abby lets go, giving him a weak smile. Mikey hugs her before walking to the doorway. "Lunch?" Mikey stops._

_ "Definitely." Mikey nods. "Better get a hold of Stella, too."_

_ "I will." Abby turns her head back to the screen, setting the picture back on the second shelf._

_ Gibbs is sadden, tears escaping his eyes before he can stop them. "Take me back, Mike. I need to fix this." He comes to face Mike._

_ Mike just stares at him before snapping his fingers._

_Instantly, he's back in that bed with all those noises. But now he can open his eyes. Blue eyes meet brown eyes as Ziva David stares down at him with a relieved expression. Ziva looks away and informs someone that he is awake. He can feel the pain in his chest. Hissing as he clenches the pained area, he starts to get up only to be gently pushed back on the bed._

_ When Gibbs looks up, it's not Ziva but an unrecognizable face. _What the hell?_ He's very caught off guard. His eyes widen at the sight before him. He looks in the direction that her face had been looking, noticing the very similar looking occupants. They all have no eyes, a black mass covering where their eyes should be. _

_ Then, he feels a burning sensation near him. He starts to panic._

_ "Hey Probie." Mike catches his attention. He stands at the foot of his bed. "Did you think I'd leave you here? Hell no!"_

_ Then he snaps his fingers again._

Gibbs coughed, confused on his surroundings. He realized he was still at the camp. As he sat up, he noticed that the camp was on fire and looked as if it had been burning for quite some time. Looking around, he saw that his team and Walter's team were all laying down, unconscious. Everyone of them had the black smoldering powder on their bodies.

Sitting up with his legs under him, he had no energy to get up as he looked at his dirty hands. He can only watch as the community burns to the ground. Its residents burning along with it.

"What the hell?" He spoke almost in a whisper.

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><p><strong>Let me know whether you like it or not. :)<strong>


	15. Chapter 15

__**This is a continuation of the little weirdness, but I tried to wrap it up. Sorry all, I promise to get back to Gabby and family.**

**Disclaimer as usual.**

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><p><em>Chapter 15<em>

_Edinburg Regional Medical Center (20 Miles from Key Ring Camp) _

_Edinburg, Texas_

Gibbs sat upright on a hospital bed in the local ER with his legs swung over the side. He faced the attending nurse as she cleaned his wounds. He kept scanning the floor for anyone familiar, but no one showed up.

"All done, Mr. Gibbs." The young blond-headed nurse announced as she left go of his hand, setting it carefully on his leg. His eyes averted to hers, a small smile passed her lips as she pulled away, grabbing the used materials and disposing them in the appropriate place. "The doctor should be in shortly." She informed him as she went to the door.

"Hey," he tried to grab her attention but she already left the room. "What about my team?" he said under his breath. His natural impatience coursed through his system. He needed to get the hell out of this room; he needed to find his people. There were a hell of a LOT of questions that needed to be answered, like how the hell he was perfectly fine other than a few minor injuries while his people and the other team were all unconscious.

His eyes widened as his vision focused on finding his phone. He needed to call Abby, Ducky, and Palmer to let them know what happened! _She'll kill me for sure._ Gibbs thought. _Oh God, I'm screwed._ He jumped off the bed and walked – more like limped – the short distance to the portable table tray against the wall where the door was. His jacket lay haphazardly on it, alone with the items found on him. After many minutes searching for the damned thing, he smiled when he pulled it out.

Although it was dirty, he found it to be in working condition. Fumbling with the newest phone – a different kind than what he was used to – and cursing that McGee wasn't here to show him how to use the damn thing, he finally managed to press the right speed dial number for his wife. As it rang, he inwardly winced just thinking of her reaction.

"Hey Gibbs." She greeted, friendly. _Okay,_ he thought, _that means she's still at work_.

Since he was alone, he greeted her on a more personal level. "Hey honey." His voice was low and sounded exhausted with a little bit of stress.

That sounded triggered her to worry. "Honey, what's wrong?" She forgone the professionalism.

"Um..." he started, scratching his head nervously as he looked out into the open waiting room. He decided to just not filter how bad things really were. "I'm not completely sure, but our team and Walter's are all unconscious; I'm the only one that's fairly okay...We're at the ER in Edinburg, Texas. I believe it's the regional medical center." He started feeling like his world was spinning. Shaking his head, he tried to get the feeling away, only to notice it become stronger. "Hang on, Abs."

"Jethro?" Abby became even more alarm. "Jethro!"

He fell on his back, grunting at the pain. "I-I don't feel so good." His arm dropped to the floor, the phone skidding to a stop within reach.

The nurses noticed Gibbs fall to the floor. They rushed to him, asking him questions as his mind quickly slipped into the unknown. The last voice he heard was his wife screaming out his name.

"_Boss?" he hears Tony's voice. Then he feels someone shaking his shoulder. "Wakey, wakey Boss!" Tony says in an unusual squeal-like voice._

_ He opens his eyes, finding himself in darkness with Tony and the others nearby. "God, don't tell me we've all died and gone to heaven." He doesn't look thrilled._

_ "Don't know, Boss." Tony smiles. He turns his head, smiling when Ziva and McGee emerge from the darkness. _

_ He regards them all, pointing at each one of them as he speaks. "You all do not have permission to die." __He speaks firmly. "Got me?" A round of shaking heads makes him feel better. A satisfied smile breaks out on his face. "So where the hell are we?"_

_ A new voice emerges. He recognizes it as Walter. "Hanging in the balance, Gibbs." Walter and his team emerge from the darkness._

_ He shakes Walter's hand. "Mind telling me what the hell happened?"_

_ "You don't remember?" Walter looks at him, confused._

_ The shake of his head makes Walter begin to explain. "Well, we followed that man in charge and our suspect to their community center. Once we got there, you and I questioned him while our teams talked with the residences. Seems that they had some kind of suicidal plan if any authorities got a little close." Walter gestures his head for Gibbs to follow him. He does. As they walk away from the group, their world opens up back to the camp before it burnt to the ground. There is no one around, though. "I guess we were starting to ask the right questions when someone yelled before throwing a burning bottle with an accelerated cloth stuffed inside. The place started burning. All four of us tried to get the hell out, but the door was secured shut._

_ "Everything went to hell after that. A bomb in the corner of the large room went off, sealing the two men's fates. We could hear bombs going off, the yelling of our people. You were the smart one, breaking the rest of that window, getting me out first before you got out." They walk through the appropriate building. "Those bombs knocked all of us out, throwing us thirty feet in the air and to safety. I'm surprised no one else survived. Guess they all had a death wish." Walter stops and regards Gibbs. "I'm surprise you were conscious."_

_ "Me too." He scans the area. "They were suicidal bombers. Damn. Should've seen that."_

_ Walter places a hand on his shoulder. "Hey knucklehead! You didn't know. It's not your fault."_

_ He turns back around to see the group. "We gonna live?"_

_ "This about the time you kick our asses." The other leader smirks, dropping his hand._

_ Gibbs gets his point and walks swiftly back to his team. "Get your asses back to your body!" They wince. "Got too much to live for to be in this state." He continues to glare at them. "Go!" He points to his left. "Now!"_

_ They do as he says. As soon as they leave, he turns back to Walter's team. "That goes for you all." He waits for the to listen to him. "Well? Come on!"_

_ The darkness swallows them all up._

_Several Hours Later_

His blurry blue eyes opened, blinking several times to clear his vision. He felt a heaviness in his right hand, prompting him to turn his head right. He noticed Abby curled up in the uncomfortable-looking chair, asleep. Gibbs looked out the bay window, finding it dark. He turned his head to the left, discovering that Walter lay still unconscious.

_ So much for my ordering them. _Gibbs sighed, hearing Abby stirring before she yawned. His head whipped back to her.

When her green eyes met his blue ones, she was in relief. "Oh thank God!" She exclaimed, getting up and throwing her arms around him – or at least as much as she could – dropping his hand in the process.

His eyes closed shut, reveling in the safety and comfort she seemed to bring with her. "I miss you." He whispered just before she pulled back.

"I missed you, too, sweetie." Abby sat back down, revealing her tear-stained face. He hated to make her cry; hell, he hated it period when she cried. Lifting his hand, he wiped away the tears that started to fall.

"Where's Tony, Ziver, and Tim?"

"Awake. Our boys and girl are flipping irate that they haven't been allowed to leave their rooms to see you." Abby just finished speaking when a soft knock rapped on the room's only wooden door. McGee was sitting in a wheelchair, hands on the wheels, and looking at them relieved.

"Hey Boss," He whispered, entering the room without permission, to which neither Abby or Gibbs cared. "Glad your awake."

"Glad you're _alive_, Tim!" he stressed, giving him a once over at the same time as he checked McGee for possible visible injuries. His younger agent had a gauze patch located on his left forehead where – he assumed – a cut or gash was. Both the man's wrists were wrapped, indicating something bad attacked his wrists. McGee had his shoulder wrapped and a cast on his right leg. "What did they do to you?"

McGee looked down at himself before meeting Gibbs' concerned eyes. "Caught me off guard when the first bomb went off. Three people attacked me; the others tried to get to me but they had their own attacks to tend to. You should have seen Ziva though! I never thought she'd actually use her ninja skills to the max!" His hazel green eyes lit up as he told the story. "She kicked ass!" He exclaimed as loud as he could. Poor boy must have a sore throat, probably induced from no other than the ventilator he and the others were on.

Just as he started telling how Ziva kicked ass, a soft rap at the door revealed to be Tony and Ziva standing at the doorway. Gibbs waved them in. "Why is McGee in a wheelchair and you two aren't?" He gave them the famous glare.

Tony looked apologetic to McGee. "Tried to get to you, Probie. There were so many of them." He looked up to meet Gibbs' eyes.

"I cut through the people around me and tried to disarm the last bomb, but I was unsuccessful." Ziva looked ashamed.

Tony sighed. "It's sliced, Zee-vah."

Ziva was exasperated. "Whatever! You get the point, yes?"

"Yes." All four people in the room returned.

"Ziver, let me get this straight: you tried to disarm the last bomb BY YOURSELF with NO BACKUP!" Gibbs' angry voice caused her to wince and feel pity for Tony as he turned his anger on the man beside her. "Where the HELL were you, DiNozzo?" Tony's eyes widened, not expecting Gibbs' sudden turn on him.

"I-I was nearby." His eyes looked anywhere else but at Gibbs. "She told me to clear the room! I don't question her Mossad voice!" The three additional heads turned to him, casting a similar incredulous expression. Tony was a little uncomfortable with all eyes on him – a strange behavior. "What?" He asked innocently.

They looked away, rolling their eyes. Gibbs spoke up. "Just glad everyone here is okay." He cupped Abby's cheek, stroking the skin lightly. A rare smile lit his lips, but it soon vanished when he realized he didn't have any news on Walter's team. "How's Walter and his team?"

The four similar grim expressions on everyone told him all he needed to know: His team was the lucky ones.


	16. Chapter 16

__**First, I'm gonna apologized for this chapter. It's really a bad chapter, but because of my day (it was really horrible) I got a little impatient and finished with the bombing and what not. Next chapter, though, we focus more on Gabby and family. That I can promise.**

**Disclaimer as usual.**

**-Kellz  
><strong>

_Chapter 16_

_One Week Later_

_Washington, DC_

Team Gibbs stood up, aside from McGee who was still in a wheelchair due to his hands still healing. The two remaining team members on Team Morris rose as well. Those who had been in the military saluted the fallen agents as their caskets were being carried out of the cargo plane. The others had their hands behind their backs, intertwining his or her fingers to rest against that individual person's waist. The two almond frosted oak wood casket rested on two separate gurneys, giving the pall bearers the chance to undo a flag and cover the top of the caskets. Together the military officers loaded the two hearses.

It was only when the doors shut that the people boarded on the aircraft walked down to the ground; Tony pushed McGee's wheelchair down for him, giving the younger man's hands a rest. He didn't offer no jokes, no sarcasm, didn't try to lighten the mood. He just couldn't. So many of his coworkers were dying because someone was after his big boss. Tony glanced at Gibbs, who stared back at him, a knowing expression passed between them. The two exchanged this unspoken agreement to finish this now.

As Gibbs lowered his hand, he turned his head to the right, gauging Walter's attitude. The other leader cast a guilt-ridden, hurt expression – which Gibbs could empathized with whole-heartedly – while he watched helplessly as the hearses drove off. Walter turned to Gibbs, a subtle nod tells Gibbs all that he needs to know.

They will end this. This is their fight, and no one is going to deter NCIS from finishing it.

_Progreso, Texas_

Ishmael Jarrah stood outside of the small, dinky gas station, picking at his nails while the Headmaster and the man's wife were inside, gathering supplies for the road. They were in a lemon vehicle, but that's just how the Key Ring members lived – on bare necessities. He couldn't believe that he pulled it off, setting the camp up for failure, including killing all off those agents. Hopefully now, they were safe.

It was fairly easily letting the agents believe that the three remaining members of the camp had died. If only they had stayed behind to see it all. A trap door near the back door clouded the agents' vision, giving the two higher ups a chance to get the hell out. They bolted to the lemon and left.

"Ishmael!" The wife called, holding up a bottle of water for him. He pushed himself off the side of the car, leaving the hose in the gas tank as it finished filling up. Taking the bottle, he opened it and chugged it halfway down. "Jonas is almost finished."

Ishmael nodded in acknowledgement as he turned to wait for the tank to finish filling. They had decided to make it much harder for NCIS to find them by moving to one of the largest cities in America – New York.

_A Few Weeks Later_

The sound of construction progressing outside the temporary base of NCIS was a slight distraction as the progress of finding the people behind all of the mess took precedence. The flow of new cases were sent to the other sections.

Vance had now been discharged from the hospital. He'd waken a week after the bombing, discovering that his wife had died and two children were surviving. Just last week, they had been released. The Director had opted to stay at home with his children as they processed the death of her, but he had made sure that he was at least on call to advised. Luckily, Gibbs had yet to call him.

McGee was walking on his own, albeit a cane, but he was healing. Walter and Brandon had become a great additional help, covering what they could. It had seemed that the merged team had discovered the three members had survived, which was where the team was focusing their attention.

Gibbs was currently speaking with another agent when he heard Ziva speak up. Turning his attention to her, he signaled the agent to do whatever he thought necessary and walked over to her.

"He is in New York City with the other two. A cab driver just identified them from the BOLO we sent out. Shall we head out?" she looked up at him, a glimmer of hope lighting up her eyes.

"Yeah. I wanna kill the SOBs." Gibbs agreed, pulling out his gun and badge, slipping them in their appropriate places. "Let's head out!" He addressed his team.

They scrambled to catch up. Before Gibbs left, he ventured to Abby's lab to inform her of the update, kissing her goodbye before leaving.

It took two days to find them and put Ishmael in jail. Ishmael had ended up getting shot in leg while the other two were killed. Now that it was cleared up, they could focus on recovering.

* * *

><p><strong>Again, I apologize.<strong>


	17. Chapter 17

__**I do apologize for not getting this sooner. I've had a horrible couple of days. This is the last chapter. I hope you enjoy! Thanks for all hits, reviews, alerts, favorites, etc!**

**-Kellz  
><strong>

_Chapter 17_

_Five Years Later_

The offbeat song of 'Happy Birthday' was heard as Gibbs carried out the lit candled birthday cake for Mikey, who sat on the patio chair with a smile perched on his face. He clapped his hands, ready to get the song and candle-blowing out of the way so he could eat his big piece of cake. His family was there with additional children. Tony held his daughter securely in his lap, singing at a softer tone. The little three-month-old was sitting against his chest, watching with bewildered eyes as her cousin blow out his candles. Her mother split her attention between celebrating Mikey's birthday and her daughter.

Things had definitely changed. Jimmy and Breena had long since gotten married and two years ago had their set of twins – a boy and girl. McGee had found a girl, Jannell Whitlock, who had recently married. Ducky and Jackson were staying strong, enjoying their time as the doting grandfathers of the group.

Vance stood against the railing with crossed arms, smiling and enjoying the time. His children were sitting patiently at the kid's table. As soon as the cake was passed out and eaten, the children that were old enough to run around the yard on their own, took off for yard.

Life seemed to be looking up for the NCIS group.

That night, Gibbs kissed his son's forehead as the tired boy slid under the blankets to sleep. He pressed the play button to the recorder, letting his son listen to Kelly's voice. Even at ten, the young boy enjoyed falling asleep to his sister's voice.

Abby came out of Stella's room, shutting the door and stepping inside Mikey's room to give him a kiss. Gibbs had already put Stella to bed two hours ago. They left the door cracked as they ventured to their room.

"Can you believe our boy is ten?" Abby asked as she pulled back the covers while Gibbs slipped off his house shoes.

"No. It seems like just yesterday we were bringing him home from the hospital." He answered, pushing down the covers on his side. He slipped into the bed just before she did, sliding the covers over his body. As they settled, he pulled her against him, snuggling his head in the crook of her neck. "Mmm...I love you, you know that?" He asked, sleepily but with a smile.

Her smile erupted on her face. "Oh, I know."

Mikey Gibbs grew up in a loving family. Although things had changed as things naturally do, he never stopped being proud of who he was. Jack had passed away when he was fifteen; Ducky had followed just two years later. His uncle Tim had replaced Vance as director when he was eighteen; Tony had already moved up to lead the former Team Gibbs when his father retired not long after Jack passed away. Jimmy had taken over for Ducky. His mother stayed working at NCIS.

Now at twenty-five, Mikey stood before the towering NCIS building, not the least bit intimidated. He took a breath, though, enjoying the last few moments of freedom. He entered the building, swinging his NCIS-issued backpack on one shoulder and taking off the NCIS cap. Going through security with no issues, he rode up to the bullpen, ready for the day. After all, he'd worked his ass off to get where he was.

Mikey surpassed the curious looks from the many agents on the floor, even Tony's team. He entered the Director's office. The secretary Heather, who had replaced Cynthia a few years back, stopped him before he barged into McGee's office. That would most likely change once everyone realized who's kid he was.

"Sir, your 7 o'clock is here." Heather announced. A minute later, McGee gave her the go ahead to let him in.

"Hey Uncle Tim!" Mikey greeted just after entering the room.

"Hey Mikey, are you ready to start?" McGee greeted, standing up and shaking the young man's hand.

"Ready and loaded." Mikey's saying had never changed since Tony started saying that. McGee chuckled.

"All right. Come with me." McGee ushered Mikey to meet his team. He lead him to a very familiar area. "DiNozzo!" He hollered to grab his former leader's attention. Tony whipped around to see what his boss and brother wanted.

"Probie?"

No matter what Tim did, Tony would never changed his nickname for him. Tony had tried several times, but it never worked. They got used to it, only being professional when the big whigs or other important people were around.

"Meet your newbie." McGee stepped to the left, revealing Mikey.

"Hey Boss." Mikey greeted, a bright smile plastered all over his face.

DiNozzo smirked. "Hello Probie 2.0. Ready to work?"

"Definitely."

"Get your new home ready. Got a dead Marine to attend to." Tony ordered him, to which Mikey quickly did as he was told. McGee eyed him suspiciously. "Don't worry, Probie. I won't kill him. _Boss would kill me._ I'll enjoy bossing a Gibbs around, though."

"Be good, DiNozzo. I'll sic Ziva on you." McGee assured. "We have plenty of paperclips around here. I'm sure mini-ninja won't like her daddy messing with her big cousin, either."

Tony shivered. "Don't remind me. She's already learning how to drive." He turned to face McGee. "She's already learned how to use her car as a weapon. Can you believe that?"

McGee just shook his head. "You are whipped, Tony."

"Yeah." He turned back to watch Mikey. "At least I get to whip these two in shape." He gestured to Mikey and another man, Justin Howard, who sat at Tim's old desk.

McGee just rolled his eyes and let Tony be to train his newbies.

That night, Mikey entered his parents' home, locking the door after him. The soft overhead stove light illuminated the kitchen and the soft glow from a touch lamp in the living room gave him enough light to find the stairs. Of course, he knew this house like the back of his hand. He stopped at the first bedroom door on the left. Easing the door open, he quietly walked into the room. A nightlight cast shadows in the room but was bright enough to reveal a small child on a twin-size bed. A little boy around eight years old was fast asleep, his green and brown patterned blanket covering his lower torso.

Mikey stroke his hair before bending over and kissing the boy's forehead. "Sleep tight, Kellan." He whispered, taking a moment before letting the boy sleep. He turned and left the room, keeping the door cracked. Making his way to his room two doors down, he glanced at his parents' bedroom across from the boy's room. He could see that his mother was asleep, but his father was missing.

Sighing, he turned on his heels and went back downstairs to the basement. He found his father in the basement, working on a toy box.

"Hey Dad," Mikey greeted quietly as he walked down the stairs.

At the sound of his voice, Gibbs turned to him. "Hey Mikey. How'd DiNozzo treat you today? Do I need to have a word?"

Mikey smiled. No matter their age, his father could still intimidate his uncle. "No need. All part of his initiation into his team. Besides, I'm a Gibbs. I can handle him."

Gibbs chuckled as he fingered his chisel. "Almost finished with this. I thought Kellan would enjoy painting it with me."

"He will." He remembered watching the first time his son and father were down here sanding a boat. Kellan had been five and listened very intently to his grandpa. It seemed nowadays his grandpa was his favorite person to be around, although that may have something to do with the fact that, other than school, he spent the majority of his time with his grandparents. Kellan's mother had given up her rights just shortly after he was born with the explanation that she couldn't be the mother he would need. Mikey assumed that their son would cramp her carefree style. He didn't care of her opinion; he had taken the responsibility of being a father very seriously.

"Penny for your thoughts, son?" Gibbs' voice brought Mikey out of his reverie.

Shaking his head, Mikey responded, digging in his pocket and flicking a penny on the workbench. The men smiled, a reminder of a inside joke lingered. "Yeah. Just thinking about Kellan when he was younger and his neglectful mother."

"You know she isn't worth your time. Kellan's doing perfectly fine without her. He knows he's loved."

"He started asking me questions about her last night. I wasn't sure what to tell him." Mikey picked up a sander. "Has he asked you about her?"

"A little. I just tell him that she loved him and couldn't be with him." Gibbs picked up the other sander and followed his son to the unfinished toy box. Each man picked a side to sand.

"Good thinking. That's what I'll tell him whenever he asks me." Mikey stopped what he was doing when he saw his father picked up a glass of bourbon. His face was a mixture of surprise and irritation. "Dad, how many times have I told you to let it go? You're killing your liver." He chastised.

"Hey! I'm seventy-eight! Will you quit that? You're not my boss." Gibbs smacked at Mikey's attempts to take away his drink.

"All I have to do is wake Mom up." Mikey threatened. Gibbs automatically set the glass on the work desk. Mikey looked at him smugly. It worked every single time. "Works every single time."

Gibbs had long ago caught onto what his son did, but he had yet to mess with his wife. He may be in his late seventies, but he wasn't ready to kill over any time soon, especially by his wife's hand. She couldn't get rid of him that easily. "You need to stop that." He pointed at him. "Mom really shouldn't have told you about that secret."

"You know she did for this very reason." Mikey put the sander down. "For those moments when she's not around."

"God..." Gibbs rolled his eyes as he looked up at the ceiling before turning his eyes on Mikey. "Can't an old man die in peace?"

"Not according to the doctor. Not your time yet." Mikey wasn't phased by his question. It wasn't the first time, nor would it be the last. "Besides, who else would be here to boss us all around? I'd advise not leaving it up to Tony; he's got enough of a big ego bossing me around because, as he says, 'my turn on bossing a Gibbs'. McGee has his hands busy bossing Tony and all of NCIS, and Ziva...well, she's enjoying being the senior field agent. That woman's been around Tony for too long."

"Fine." Gibbs gruff response had Mikey pleased. Some things never would change for the ex-Marine or the world in which he lived.


End file.
